


Handyman

by umakoo



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, M/M, handyman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:32:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umakoo/pseuds/umakoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki hires a handyman and makes some discoveries about himself. Pretty shameless PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handyman

**Warnings for age difference, light daddy kink.**

 

Loki was soaked to the bone and his suede chukkas were one puddle away from being ruined as he pushed through the mass of people on Drottninggatan, envious of everyone who’d had the good sense to carry an umbrella. The whole country was boiling in a heatwave, but the sky above Stockholm resembled a giant bruise and Loki didn’t know if his clothes clung to his skin from sweat or rain. He was beginning to feel a little cheated, because the pictures he’d pulled up on Google during the flight from Heathrow to Arlanda painted a picture of idyllic summers full of endless sunshine and frolicking around May poles. The clouds rumbled with rolling thunder and the rain continued to pour down as if someone upstairs was dumping it from a giant bucket.

 

 

He turned left at the waterfront, skipping over the overflowing gutters until he reached the bridge that led to the handsome old city hall on the other side of the canal. He’d arrived almost a month ago, but he was still memorizing the route between the university and his new home, and navigating with the help of various landmarks proved to be the best way to avoid getting lost.

 

 

Once he’d crossed the bridge it was just a short walk down the willow-lined street to his new apartment building, easily recognizable by the flower shop and the Italian restaurant downstairs. The tables on the restaurant terrace were full of people seeking shelter from the heavy rainfall, the smell of their steaming lattes and fragrant pastas mouthwatering. He’d spent his morning in the student advisor’s stuffy office, going through his plans for the coming semester, followed by a trip to the bookstore and he hadn’t had a single bite after his morning bowl of cereal.

 

 

Loki reached into his satchel for his keys, breathing out a sigh of relief the moment he was out of the rain. The building was old, like, early 20th century old, and the elevator matched the architecture with its cage-like design. Loki had avoided the contraption from the start, which had made moving day more than a challenge. His brothers had flown over for a three day weekend and they’d helped him with the heavy stuff, but Loki had carried boxes upon boxes of books, clothes and second-hand dishes all the way to the fifth floor. Half of his stuff was still in London, waiting to be shipped by whatever moving company his father had hired.

 

 

His flat was small, but living in the heart of Stockholm meant the rent was sky-high. The money for the flat and the cost of his art studies were all coming from Laufey’s bank account, so Loki didn’t really care how high they got. The old bastard owed him this and more for the shitty childhood and years of neglect. His classes wouldn’t start until September, but Loki had hopped on a plane the moment he found out he’d been accepted to one of Sweden’s most prestigious art schools. He could have gotten his degree in England and it was no secret that the decision to study abroad was all about putting some distance between Laufey and himself, and with their family roots in Sweden the move up north felt natural.

 

 

His brothers had both been born in Sweden, but by the time Loki came along, Laufey had already moved the family to London as his company went international. He had vague memories of visiting his grandparents in Östermalm as a child, of riding the big carousel in the amusement park and running around naked in the garden of their summer house. His mother had wanted the family to remain bilingual, but after she passed away both Loki and his brothers slipped to English. What remained of his old vocabulary mostly consisted of random swear words and nursery rhymes.

 

 

He hadn’t met any of his new neighbours, but as he climbed the stairs he saw the door to one of the flats on the third floor was open. A man stood in the doorway oiling the hinges, but judging by the heavy tool belt on his hips he didn’t appear to be the tenant. Their eyes met briefly and the man flashed Loki a sympathetic smile as he took in his soaked appearance. He was hot in that ridiculously ripped belongs-on-a-romance-novel-cover kind of way while Loki resembled a wet rat. There was a call from somewhere in the apartment, an old woman by the sound of it, and though Loki’s Swedish was still rusty, he knew she was talking about a leaky faucet. The man tested the hinges and grabbed the toolbox at his feet, the sound of the closing door echoing in the stairwell.

 

 

Loki toed off his wet shoes the moment he was in his own apartment. He dropped the bag of books on the small table in the hallway and pulled his soaked hoodie over his head, followed by his jeans and soggy socks. He let out an audible groan when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, the sight even worse than he’d thought. His hair and humidity didn’t mix and the rain had turned it so frizzy that the guy downstairs probably thought he’d run off from some forgotten '80s hair metal band.

 

 

Most of his clothes were still in unopened cardboard boxes and Loki pulled on a pair of shorts and a large, faded, Garfield t-shirt. It had belonged to his ex-boyfriend and he’d kept it out of spite after their messy breakup. He gathered his hair up into a loose bun and went to the kitchen to raid his fridge, cursing when he found it mostly empty. Out of options, he grabbed the remaining slice of the pizza he’d ordered two days ago and slumped down on the couch to eat it.

 

 

Laufey had always been more invested in his company than his children, his presence more and more fleeting after Farbauti’s death, and Loki had learned to live without parental guidance from a young age. But he’d never been on his own before and it hadn’t even occurred to him how much he’d taken for granted back home. His father’s house in Camden had maids who kept the place in order while Laufey flew across Europe on business, and the only thing he’d had to worry about during his years in boarding school was showing up to class. It probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that toilet paper didn’t magically appear in the loo and the laundry room downstairs didn’t come with complimentary bottles of detergent, but it did, and sometimes he felt like he was living like some pathetic sit-com bachelor.

 

 

Loki licked his fingers clean of pizza sauce and used his shirt to wipe at his clammy brow. The air in the apartment was close to tropical and the heater in the living room had been stuck on boiling since he’d moved in, giving him a full blast 24/7.  He’d reported the problem after the first night, followed by several increasingly frustrated voice mails to the handyman whose number he’d found on the noticeboard downstairs, but the guy still hadn’t bothered to show up.

 

 

He dragged himself up and pulled out his phone for another angry call, his finger already hovering over the green button when it hit him: the guy downstairs _was_ the handyman!

 

 

Loki rushed down to the third floor and rang his neighbour’s doorbell, relieved when the door was answered by the hunk from before. The guy gave him an amused look and following his gaze, Loki realized he’d run out in his ratty old t-shirt and shorts that left very little to the imagination.

 

 

He tugged on the hem of his shirt, his cheeks growing hot. They stared at each other until the man finally shrugged his massive shoulders and raised his brows at Loki.

 

 

“Kan jag hjälpa dig med något?”

 

 

“Uh…” Loki cleared his throat as he wracked his brain for his non-existent Swedish vocabulary. “Ursäkta, men jag behöver… No, that’s not right… Jag telefonerade -“

 

 

The man raised his hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “It’s ok, I speak English. Did you need something?”

 

 

“Oh thank goodness!” Loki let his shoulders slump with relief. “Yes, I’ve been trying to reach you for almost a month now.”

 

 

“Uh…” The guy gave him a perplexed look, his brows furrowed. “You… have?”

 

 

Loki raised his palms, unable to keep his snappy tone in check. “Yes! I’ve been calling you about the broken heater. Didn’t you get my messages? I left like ten of them.”

 

 

The man scratched at his thick beard and leaned against the door frame. “You did?” His mouth quirked up and the amused glint in his eyes made Loki feel like he was suddenly the butt of a joke. “Sorry, must have missed them.”

 

 

Loki crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his hip, the stupid grin on the guy’s face grating on his nerves. “Well, if you’re done oiling the old lady’s hinges, maybe you could come upstairs and fix it?”

 

 

The man raked his eyes up and down Loki’s body, lingering on his lean, milky white thighs. “Just let me grab my toolbox.”

 

 

Loki led him up the stairs and cleared them a path through the pile of junk mail that threatened to roll out each time he opened the door. The heat inside hit them like a wall and even the hunk seemed surprised by it.

 

 

“Wow. It’s a sauna in here…” He set his toolbox on the small coffee table and shrugged off his flannel shirt, tossing it on the nearby armchair.

 

 

The tight, white t-shirt he wore underneath it was pure sin and Loki couldn’t help but stare at the way it hugged the swell of his biceps.

 

 

“You just moved in?” the man asked, taking in the half-assembled Ikea furniture and cardboard boxes that filled the apartment. “You're from England, right?”

 

 

Loki arched a brow, wondering if all handymen here were this nosy. “From London. So are you gonna look at my heater or what?”

 

 

“You’re a bossy little thing…” the guy snorted. He opened his toolbox and knelt before the broken heater. “What’s wrong with it?”

 

 

“I can’t move the knob, it just won’t budge for me.” He pointed at the wheel on the side of the heater that adjusted the temperature.

 

 

“Well, let me see if I can get your _knob_ to move for you,” the guy grinned.

 

 

It had to be one of the dumbest attempts at flirting Loki had witnessed, but he found himself smiling as the guy began to rummage through his tools. He was older than Loki, maybe in his late twenties, and the tool belt that hung low on his hips made him look like a bad porn cliché. Loki followed the muscled valleys of his back with his eyes and damn if he wasn’t exactly Loki’s type. He'd often seen guys like him at clubs in Soho, but with Alex still in the picture he'd rarely done more than look and admire from afar, secretly envious of the boys who got to go home with them. 

 

 

“Hey, London, my eyes are up here.”

 

 

Loki tipped up his chin, heat rushing to his cheeks when he realized he’d been caught staring. “Uh… sorry.”

 

 

“So, you got a name?” the guy chuckled.

 

 

“Loki…”

 

 

“Good to meet you. I’m Thor.” He continued to work on the heater, but the silence between them didn’t last long. “What brings you to Stockholm?”

 

 

Loki shook his head, his eyes narrowed. “Are you always this nosy with your clients?”

 

 

“Only the cute ones who hate Mondays.”

 

 

“Huh?”

 

 

Thor pointed his wrench at Garfield’s apathetic face on Loki’s t-shirt, his eyes appraising. “You’re what, twenty, twenty-one? So my guess is you’re here for school. What are you studying?”

 

 

“I’m trying to get a degree in photography.”

 

 

“Yeah?” Thor pointed his wrench at the framed black and white photograph leaning against the wall by the couch, still waiting for Loki to hang it on one of the pristine white walls. “That yours?”

 

 

“Yeah... I took it with my mum’s old camera when I was ten.” The photograph was amateurish and barely in focus, but his mother had framed it for him only a few weeks before she’d passed. It was a picture of her on the veranda on one of her good days, before the illness robbed her of her spirit.

 

 

“Not exactly my best work, but-”

 

 

“But it’s special?” Thor guessed, his blue eyes soft and somehow knowing.

 

 

“It is...” Loki wrapped his arms around himself and let his gaze fall to his feet. He had always kept his family issues private and even Alex hadn’t known about Farbauti’s death and his many issues with Laufey. Not that he’d even cared. All he wanted from Loki was his mouth and ass, and whenever his gaming debts got bad, his credit card.

 

 

Thor gave the thermostat another twist and whatever had held the wheel in place finally gave in. “There we go!”

 

 

“It works?” Loki rushed to the heater and gave the wheel a try, pleased to find it moving. “Oh my god, thank you so much.”

 

 

“Told you I’d get your knob working…”

 

 

Loki snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re aware that you sound like a bad porno, right?”

 

 

Thor’s smile was equal parts lewd and cocky. “I think you like it.” He dropped the wrench back into the box and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops, rocking on his heels. “So... anything else you need me to take care of?” he asked, and it was pretty clear that he wasn’t talking about a broken faucet or squeaking hinges.

 

 

Loki felt his breath catch in his throat as one of Thor’s large hands inched towards his crotch and even the tool belt couldn’t conceal what he was packing in his jeans. It’d been over six months since he’d been fucked and the jolt of arousal in his belly felt almost like a physical blow when he met Thor’s heated gaze.

 

 

His breakup with Alex had been a giant mess, taking place in the middle of a crowded dance floor, and it had taken Loki a long time to get over the humiliation of discovering that his asshole of a boyfriend had been cheating on him all over London. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for another relationship, but he had to admit that his first few weeks in Stockholm had been a little lonely.

 

 

The tool belt around his hips jingled as Thor closed the small distance between them. He brushed his knuckles against Loki’s cheek and traced the long column of his neck with his fingers, the touch resonating in Loki’s belly. "I'm pretty good with my hands."

 

 

Loki caught his bottom lip between his teeth, coming to a decision. “Well, there might be something in the bedroom…”

 

 

“Yeah?” Thor murmured, crowding closer. “Lead the way.”

 

 

Loki’s bedroom was as unfinished as the rest of the flat, the area around his bed full of moving boxes, half-sorted dvds, books and random junk he’d dragged with him from England. The only thing that didn’t look a mess was his desk by the window, the shelves around it full of folders and CD cases where he’d stored all the photos he’d taken over the years. His brand new Olympus held the place of honour in the middle of the desk, a departing gift from Laufey, not that his father would know about it until his next credit card bill.

 

 

Loki flushed when he realized his bed was unmade, the sheets a rumpled mess, but it didn’t look like Thor had any interest in his surroundings, his eyes solely on Loki. He’d never slept with anyone for the first time without the aid of some liquid courage, and he was beginning to grow a little nervous, but Thor spun him around and caught his lips in a kiss before Loki had a chance to make a fool of himself. He ground his hips against Loki’s belly, letting him feel the hard shape of his cock where it was beginning to strain against the left leg of his jeans.

 

 

“I have special tool for you-“

 

 

“Oh my god!” Loki snorted, unable to keep from laughing.

 

 

Thor grinned at him, biting his lip. “Too much?”

 

 

“ _Way_ too much.”

 

 

Thor nodded and leaned in for another kiss. The scrape of his full but neatly-trimmed beard wasn’t as bad as the horrible stubble Alex always sported and Loki reached up to stroke it, wondering how it might feel in other, more sensitive places.

 

 

“Do you have any condoms?”

 

 

Loki frowned, glancing at the unopened moving boxes. “No… And I’m pretty sure I’m out of lube too,” he sighed. “It’s actually been a while since... since the last time.”

 

 

Thor pulled him close and slipped his hands under Loki’s t-shirt to caress his flanks. “That’s ok, there’s still plenty of things we can do.”

 

 

He reached down for the hem of Loki’s shirt and pulled it over his head. The next to go were his shorts and Thor rolled his eyes when he yanked them down to Loki’s ankles.

 

 

“That has got to be the tiniest pair of shorts I’ve seen,” he chuckled. “But you definitely have the legs for them.”

 

 

Loki had never been shy about his own body and he’d been photographing himself since he hit puberty, studying his naked form to see how the camera captured it in various positions and light sources. He let Thor look his fill, the approving grunt he received fueling his self-esteem. He was already tenting his briefs and he let out a quiet sigh when Thor reached down to trace the shape of his cock with his fingers, brushing his thumb against the small wet spot near the waistband.

 

 

“You too,” Loki urged, eager for Thor to undress.

 

 

Thor pulled his own shirt over his head and let it fall at their feet. His chest was smooth, but the trail of fur under his navel tempted Loki to reach out. He traced it with his fingers to the metal buckle of Thor’s tool belt. and began to work it open, pulling the leather through the clasp with nimble fingers.

 

 

“How old are you?” Loki asked.

 

 

“Thirty-five.”

 

 

Loki’s hands froze on the belt buckle and he looked up, unable to hide his surprise. Thor was older than he’d thought. _Much_ older.

 

 

Thor raised his brows, the look on his face a little uncertain. “Are you ok with that?”

 

 

Loki shivered with a sudden, intense rush of want. He gave the belt a yank, pulling it free from its buckle. “Definitely.”

 

 

Thor hummed, slipping his hand into Loki's briefs to fondle him. “You like older men?”

 

 

“Yes…”

 

 

“You want someone to take control?” The hand around his cock squeezed, the grip possessive, and Loki leaked another drop of pre-come into his briefs. Thor wrapped his arm around his slender back and pulled him flush against his chest. “Teach you how to be a good boy.”

 

 

“Oh fuck…”

 

 

“Answer me.”

 

 

“ _Yes_.”

 

 

Loki knew he was the poster child of Daddy Issues, but he’d never realized how much he wanted exactly what Thor was describing. Care, praise and approval. He buried his face in the crook of Thor’s neck, thrusting into the warm caress of the hand in his briefs, his blunt nails leaving shallow grooves on Thor’s shoulders.

 

 

Thor withdrew his hand after a while, and Loki whined in protest. He found himself being pushed down on the bed, the look in Thor’s eyes full of quiet dominance as they assumed their new roles.

 

 

“Good boys don’t whine.”

 

 

Loki closed his mouth, eager to obey, and he was rewarded with an approving smile. The burst of delight he felt in his chest was something he’d never associated with sex before, but he was already greedy for more.

 

 

“Go on, get naked for me,” Thor ordered, reaching for his own fly.

 

 

Loki nodded obediently and lifted his hips to yank his briefs off. Thor gave a pleased nod the moment he was naked, watching him with hooded eyes. His whole body oozed control and confidence and Loki had a feeling he enjoyed the dominant role as much as Loki himself enjoyed to submit. He undid the final buttons on his fly and stepped out of his jeans and underwear, standing at the foot of Loki’s bed, large and imposing.

 

 

Loki licked his lips, trying to ignore the sudden burst of butterflies in his stomach as he let his eyes drink in the sight before him. Thor was huge all over and the fat cock that bobbed between his thighs was no exception. It was almost fully hard now, nestled in a thatch of blond curls and beading at the tip. Thor reached down to give himself a series of slow strokes, slapping the heavy length against his palm.

 

 

The lewd sound of it drove Loki to part his thighs even wider and Thor wasted no time accepting the invitation, crawling on top of him. He enclosed Loki in the cage of his arms and massive thighs, but instead of feeling trapped, Loki felt safe, Thor’s body heat and the smell of his clean sweat both arousing and comforting.

 

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” Thor murmured, leaning in and swallowing Loki’s pleased little gasp with another kiss.

 

 

They thrust against each other in a lazy pace, the kiss languid and sweet. Thor kept his movements slow and controlled, the muscles in his stomach clenching with every thrust, and Loki enjoyed the way they felt against his own cock where it was trapped between their bellies. He ground up, eager to come, his toes already curling against the sheets as the coil of arousal in his belly pulled tighter.

 

 

He hadn’t had a good wank in days and he got himself to the edge in no time. He began to moan into the kiss, his thrusts erratic as his hands sought purchase in Thor’s long wheat-coloured hair. Thor pulled back just as Loki was about to spill. He lifted his hips to lean his weight against his arms and Loki’s eyes shot open, his brows twisting into a confused frown. He let out a disgruntled little whine and tried to pull Thor back down as his hips continued to hump the air.

 

 

Thor raised his brow and leveled Loki with a stern look. “Good boys don’t get greedy…”

 

 

Loki stilled his hips, his eyes imploring as he stared up at Thor. “ _Please_ …” he sighed. There was a very specific word he wanted to add to that soft little plea, but they barely knew each other and he had no idea how Thor would react to it. Hell, he didn’t even know how he himself would feel about it.

 

 

Thor’s eyes softened and he cupped Loki’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s it...” He claimed Loki’s lips in another kiss and lowered his hips to resume his thrusting, and this time Loki made sure his own hips matched the slow pace Thor set up for them.

 

 

“It’s better when you don’t rush it,” Thor murmured.

 

 

Loki had never been one to take things slow, but he was already beginning to regret all the hurried fumbles with Alex and the handful of guys that had come before him. He’d never even thought sex could be something more than drunken fucks after a night of clubbing or quick handjobs between classes, but Thor was definitely proving him wrong.

 

 

With the urgency gone, the need in his belly had begun to transform into a slow, pleasant burn that flared up every time he thrust against Thor’s abs. Things got even better when Thor made a slight adjustment to the angle of his hips and Loki inhaled sharply when he felt the heavy weight of Thor’s cock press against his own hard length, the slick slide of it divine.

 

 

“Fuck… fuck,” he panted, his hips jerking up despite his best effort to still them.

 

 

Thor chuckled, his eyes fond. “Alright, I think we’ve teased you enough.” He took Loki’s hand in his own and guided it between them. “Take hold of your cock for me.”

 

 

Loki didn’t have to be told twice and he sobbed with relief when he wrapped his fingers around his aching erection. Thor shifted his legs to settle his weight on his knees and pressed his own cock against Loki’s, wrapping his fingers around their hard shafts. His hand was almost large enough to enclose both their cocks in the tight heat of his fist and what little he couldn’t reach was covered by Loki’s own slender fingers.

 

 

Loki continued to follow the pace Thor set for them, his mouth falling open with a thankful sigh when he was finally allowed to speed up. Thor squeezed their cocks in his fist and Loki moaned, watching as they both pushed out clear beads of slick. The mattress bounced under their combined weight as Thor continued to grind down, their grunts and moans broken by the occasional rumble of distant thunder. He swiped his thumb over Loki’s slit with every upward stroke and Loki was unable to hold back, the coil in his belly snapping loose. His hips arched up from the bed and his thighs squeezed against Thor’s flanks as he began to spill all over his own chest. Thor continued to stroke him, squeezing and milking Loki’s load out of him with a firm grip. His muscles convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over him, the feeling of coming from someone else’s touch better than he remembered.

 

 

Thor released his hold and raked his eyes over the splatter of come on Loki's chest. “Next time you’ll ask for permission, won’t you?” He wrapped his hand around his own cock, his pace fast as he jerked himself.

 

 

It was bold and maybe a little arrogant of him to assume that there would be a next time, but Loki couldn’t deny how eager he was to beg for that permission, for Thor to give him his approval. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, ignoring the knot of nerves in his belly and gave a little nod.

 

 

“Yes… _daddy_.”

 

 

And there it was. The Word. Slipping out of his mouth to hang between them as his cheeks grew hot and his scalp prickled with rapidly mounting embarrassment. He was almost too afraid to meet Thor’s eyes, but the low grunt above him drew his gaze up just as Thor began to come, Loki’s little gamble driving him over the edge. He spilled all over Loki’s softening cock, his breathing heavy and laboured as he continued to jerk himself.

 

 

“ _Fuck_.”

 

 

Loki’s cock gave a weak throb as he felt Thor’s come land on it in thick, creamy wads, some of it sliding down his perineum and pooling between his cheeks. Thor gave himself a little shake, milking a few more drops onto Loki’s belly before releasing his hold.

 

 

The mattress bounced as he slumped down to lie next to Loki and they watched each other, Thor’s stupidly happy grin mirrored on Loki’s own face. His head spun as he tried to make sense of the last thirty minutes. How could such a miserable day turn into one of the best ones Loki had had in months, maybe _years_?

 

 

“So…” Thor rolled over to his side and leaned his head against his palm. “That was fun."

 

 

"It was," Loki smiled.

 

 

Thor looked down at their naked bodies, the traces of their pleasure drying on their flushed skin. “I think we could both use a shower.”

 

 

His bathroom was too small to fit them both at once and they took turns showering. Thor was still washing himself and whistling a happy tune while Loki toweled himself off in the bedroom. He began to rummage through one of the boxes for some clothes, deciding to finally get rid of Alex’s old shirt for good, and he'd just finished pulling on a pair of jeans when the doorbell rang.

 

 

Behind the door stood a middle-aged man in blue overalls. “God eftermiddag,” he said, raising his cap to reveal a thinning head of hair. “Johansson.”

 

 

“Huh?”

 

 

The man scratched his head and squinted at a list of names on the clipboard in his hands. The look in his eyes cleared and he switched to slightly broken English. “You called… heater problem, yes?” he asked, his accent much stronger than Thor’s.

 

 

Loki gaped at the man and glanced over his shoulder at the bathroom door, Thor’s singing still carrying over the sound of running water. He raked his fingers through his damp hair, his mind reeling.

 

 

“ _You’re_ the handyman?”

 

 

“Yes?” The man nodded, the look on his face now as confused as Loki’s. “Johansson.”

 

 

“And you’re here to fix my heater.”

 

 

“That’s right.”

 

 

“Then who the hell do I have in my shower?”

 

 

The man frowned and peered into the hallway, shaking his head. “Look, son, I don’t know what game you’re playing here, but I’m a very busy man. Understand?”

 

 

“Yes, I understand,” Loki snapped. He rubbed at his temple and did his best to explain that the problem had been solved, apologizing for the false alarm.

 

 

The sound of running water finally ceased and Loki took a seat on the couch as he waited for Thor to re-emerge. He appeared a moment later, the towel Loki had borrowed him wrapped loosely around his hips, his wet hair plastered to his neck and shoulders.

 

 

“So, a man called Johansson came over while you were in the shower,” Loki said, shooting Thor an accusing glare across the small living room. “It seems he came over to fix my heater.”

 

 

“Oh shit…” Thor snorted. He scratched at his neck, his eyes apologetic.

 

 

“You’re not the handyman.”

 

 

“I’m not the handyman,” Thor confirmed. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

 

 

“Well, I’m listening,” Loki said, his eyes expectant.

 

 

Thor took a seat at his side and had the good sense to look a little scolded. “I sell flowers. The flower shop downstairs, that’s mine.”

 

 

“You sell flowers?!” Loki repeated, a little incredulous.

 

 

“It’s a family business.”

 

 

Loki buried his head in his hands, the sheer humiliation of his misunderstanding making his cheeks burn. He pointed his finger at the toolbox on the coffee table, his eyes accusing. “Well, why the hell were you dressed like Bob the Builder?”

 

 

“I was fixing things for my grandmother,” Thor explained. “Johansson is an old drunk who never shows up when he’s needed, and she hasn’t let him into her apartment after he crashed into her collection of porcelain poodles.” He set his hand on Loki’s knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Sorry, I was going to tell you.”

 

 

Loki watched him with narrowed eyes, but the scolded puppy look Thor was giving him made it hard to pout. “Well, what do I owe you for fixing my heater?”

 

 

Thor brushed a lock of wet hair behind Loki’s ear. “How about you let me make you dinner this weekend?”

 

Loki raised his chin, pretending to consider what was very clearly an invitation on a date. “Well, I have been meaning to taste those famous Swedish meatballs…”

 

 

Thor leaned in, their noses brushing. “They just so happen to be my specialty.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanksies to Bucky and Selene for the beta! The fic was inspired by [this cute video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjqprNPEXqI) :)


End file.
